A Series of Torture
by Rian Cutter
Summary: Enter at your own risk... A collection of one shots revolving around me torturing some of the most beloved and hated characters of the series. None will escape my fun.
1. Introduction of Rian

**Since I believe everyone has at least one character they hate in Hunter x Hunter why not let your fantasies come true? Read their stories as I torture them to my heart's content and kill them off one by one… **

**Warnings (for all chapters): Gore, death, torture, swearing, nudity… **

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_Introduction of Rian_

Pale and nimble fingers stroked through his thick shoulder length deep brown hair as Rian descended the stairs. He moved easily in the shadows, reaching the bottom step without a single fumble and moving forward until he too vanished into the darkness. Dressed in a tight fitting black long sleeved shirt, a leather riding jacket, boot cut blue jeans ripped at the knees, and motorcycle boots Rian looked like the kind of person you wouldn't want to mess with. Although he was barely twenty, Rian had such a tense atmosphere around him that he was left to himself majority of the time – just how he liked it.

Halting, Rian turned to the wall on his right and flipped a switch, flooding the large basement room in bright light. The entire underground room was as sterile and white as a hospital would be, the floor covered in pearl colored tiles that sloped down to the lined trio of drains. He had also ensured it would be soundproof so no one could interrupt him as he had 'a little fun' with some guests…

Cracking the knuckles of both hands followed by rolling his neck and loosening the muscles in his shoulders, Rian removed his leather jacket and hung it in the small metal locker tucked into the corner. He had walked clear across the room in the darkness, the staircase he had descended was directly opposite him – the door at the top, the only exit as there were no windows, was closed and locked. Rian was sure any of his precious guests could force it open if given half the opportunity to escape, but he would never give them such an opportunity. Oh no, he was truly looking forward to his fun.

Rian slammed the locker door as he moved on. In the dead center of the room was a metal table, as high as the waist of Rian's five-foot-eleven-inch frame, and ready for use with both thick leather and metal straps. Again his guests would have no trouble breaking free of such meager precautions but Rian had other tricks up his sleeves…

Some feet away from the soon-to-be-blood-covered table sat another, this one in the shape of an L and covered in a white cloth so his tools gleamed cold and silver against it. Walking over to inspect everything, Rian rubbed his hands together. Everything one could possibly imagine that could be used to torture was present, and if not already laid out there were many others neatly packed away in a side room. Rian had just chosen to display his favourites, knowing he would be using them the most often. His guests could take a lot of pain, for which Rian was grateful. Screams, tears, pleading… all of that got on Rian's nerves and he would be forced to end his games early out of frustration.

Not this time.

Oh no, this time he would have his fill of blood and gore. Guest after guest, each one could handle incredibly large amounts of pain. There were many that Rian was looking forward to the most, the ones he was sure would last the longest and give him the greatest challenge of his life!

His tongue ran over his bottom lip as he tried to quill his excitement. There was no reason to get ahead of himself now. His boredom would soon dissipate and then he could bask in the joy and feeling of absolute power all he wished.

Quickly and efficiently pulling his hair back Rian secured the strands with an elastic band he had kept on his left wrist as he leisurely strutted to a second side room. It was different than the one which held his additional tools, for it was where all of his guests currently resided. One by one he would bring them out and have his fun… How Rian was looking forward to those endless seeming days.

Punching in the pin code Rian waited to hear the automatic lock disengage. He walked in between the long double row of cages, peering in to see the collection of guests he had, all of whom were under the effects of a very strong paralytic. Knowing who he had been after made it all the more imperative for Rian to come up with something new and effective. It also had to be long lasting… couldn't have his guests escaping while he was busy now could he?

Sliding both hands into the front pockets of his jeans Rian took his time to pick the first guest he would play with. There were many good choices but he didn't want to set the standard too high. It would ruin the rest of his games and he didn't want that. No… the perfect starter – _that_ was what Rian wanted.

Pacing evenly, taking his time to examine each one individually, Rian stopped when he reached the third cage on the left. Inside was the huddled form of a black haired boy. The spikey strands were tipped with green and he was folded in on himself, though he continued to shake against the unrelenting cold metal of the walls and floor. A smile, dark and cruel, spread over Rian's face but he forced himself to move on. That boy was a treasure, best to save him for a little later.

Moving on he passed cage after cage, most only housing one occupant but with several closer to the back holding upwards of three. There wasn't nearly enough room to house all his guests apart but Rian made due with the space he had. His guests who were housed in the first few cages were the ones he needed to hold off on; they were all the ones he believed would provide the longest and most interesting entertainment. Of course there were still more guests for him to collect afterwards, when the numbers he had dwindled Rian would make a note to go out and gather the second batch, and perhaps a third if he could manage it.

Pursing his lips Rian began to whistle happily as he moved on, glancing both left and right as he walked. Every guest could be addressed by name, could be described with little ease, and every time Rian could picture them laying on that cold metal bed in the main room he smiled as ideas filled his head. The expectation and foreplay he pictured… it was nearly enough to undo Rian right then and there and he would be forced to hold off yet another day.

No! Rian wanted to start today. He did not want to hold off a second longer. Stomping hurriedly down to the final cage on the right he threw open the barred door. With only a quick glance at the four occupants Rian chose one and hauled them out, dragging their body down the hallway with some ease – as they were still paralyzed by his drug and unable to protest – and strapped them to the table. None of his other guests vocally protested, no one was able to do anything but stare with half vacant eyes and await their own turn. The door closed of its own accord, cutting his guests off from seeing and hearing what Rian was about to do, though he had made no secret of it.

A final adjustment to the straps, an added injection of paralytic to ensure they couldn't move but were fully aware, Rian stepped to the L-shaped table and picked up his first tool.

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**Who all do you want to see tortured first? You have free reign to decide – just leave me a review or send me a pm.**


	2. Killua

**Thanks to_ Tsukkiishima_ for being the first to review. This chapter's for you.**

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_Killua_

Securely strapped down on the table before Rian was a silver haired boy of roughly thirteen years, his light violet eyes were half-hooded and dead looking - giving off a sense that he could take whatever Rian would throw at him without a sound. Of course that was a look Rian enjoyed breaking. There was no doubt in his mind that Killua would not be easy, but then again there were no plans for his immediate death either. No, Rian had hit upon a brilliant idea that could break two guests in an instant… But first –

Rian approached Killua's left side. The older man towered over the younger but still no response was seen in his guest's eyes. With careful movements Rian slowly clipped away Killua's white t-shirt. Removing the first completely from the ex-assassin's torso, Rian proceeded to do the same with the navy colored long sleeved shirt before stepping back with a smile. Killua's chest and stomach showed deep, silver scars from prior abuse and all Rian wanted to do in that moment was trace over every one, reopening them all with his own tools until Killua was squirming beneath him in blood and pain…

Rian would get to that later, much later, if he didn't break Killua before then.

Re-approaching the young teen Rian forced his hands away from the tempting scars and removed Killua's shorts and boxers with the same meticulous movements. When all clothing was stripped away, excluding the silver haired boy's socks and sneakers, and puddled randomly on the floor nearby, Rian stepped away to view Killua in his entirety.

Deep, penetrating scars were found across his skin, mapping out his childhood and all the training he had withstood. Killua's body was a mastery of honed and strengthened muscles that could pierce through to a heart or pull apart a human body like tissue paper. Rian's tongue slowly ran over his bottom lip as his nimble fingers traced up from Killua's ankle, over his shin, dipping under his kneecap, and coming to rest against his inner thigh. He had felt every scar, every bump and dip in the boy's strong leg. And all throughout his personal inspection Killua's eyes had remained like those of a soulless being. Nothing of panic or terror, nothing to hint at a weakness Rian could happily exploit, not that Rian had deluded himself into thinking he would find one so easily. Rian would enjoy his time with Killua and when he grew bored… well that was a surprise for later wasn't it?

Stepping away before he lost himself in exploring all those delicious scars Rian returned to his table of toys and tools. Glancing over everything but once he decided to begin with a classic. Plucking a pair of gleaming needle nose pliers Rian raised them for Killua to see. A small spark of recognition before it was buried urged Rian on. Touching the back of Killua's left hand, Rian kindly picked it up and used the tips of his own fingers to discover a path until he was grasping only the boy's thumb. No warning was given, no threats that if Killua begged or screamed that this would end faster were said – they both understood they would be falsehoods anyway – before Rian swiftly tore off Killua's thumbnail.

Blood coated the freshly exposed sensitive flesh, dripping onto the sterile surface before Rian moved on. He dispassionately stripped Killua of every finger- and toenail the boy possessed with no reaction from the ex-assassin.

Rian swept the torn nails onto the floor, smearing some of the blood across the metal surface before they reformed into perfect red beads. Taking the time to rub the blood off of his hands before he continued, Rian picked up an unusually long razorblade. The sharply thinned metal was close to four inches in length, designed specifically to cut into flesh with the same precision as a surgical scalpel.

_Now,_ Rian thought to himself as he trailed the razor over Killua's tight skin without pressure – a thin line of red beading up from where the skin was effortlessly sliced apart. He stopped when he reached Killua's left knee and instead backtracked down to the silver haired kid's ankle. Pursing his lips Rian released the razorblade so it clattered beside the boy's foot and proceeded to strip Killua of both socks and sneakers. Finally, there were no more barriers and Rian knew precisely where he wanted to start.

Killua, with his dead looking eyes, would have been fine entertainment but there were still many other guests. If Rian rushed the first few who would even mind? He had plenty to choose from, and Killua was considerably younger than Rian would have preferred. He liked his guests reasonably closer to his own age, older if he could manage to obtain them, for there was no relishing in the power of control over a younger guest.

Humming to himself Rian once more grabbed the razor and positioned himself so he squarely faced the rough soles of Killua's feet.

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Killua, trapped in his body that was utterly paralyzed, was exploring his own thoughts as Rian took his time. The thought of being tortured and killed didn't appeal to the ex-assassin in the slightest but he was not afraid. He had been born and trained in every aspect of the underworld; there was nothing the brunette could do to him that his own family hadn't already done – short of dismembering him that is. Schooling his thoughts so when the pain started he didn't react, exactly as he had been taught, Killua could not help but wonder at Rian's plans. There was no obvious reason to torture the silver haired Zoldyck heir, asides from Rian being a sadistic creep worse than Hisoka, but other alternatives did enter his mind. Information, as an example, was always a main motivator when someone tortured another. Greed, power, frustration or anger… All of those were reasons someone had tortured Killua in the past, but none of those seemed to be Rian's motivator for this…

Could he really be a worst sadist than Hisoka or his brother Illumi? Killua repressed his urge to swallow at the thought. If it was true this situation would be ending very badly for the ex-assassin.

Pain spiked up from the sole of Killua's left foot as Rian cut horizontally into it; the injury running parallel to his toes. Looking as far down his body as he could, Killua saw the flatness in Rian's eyes. Nothing was there; no joy, no anger, no emotions at all. It was the look of the dead… it was far more impersonal than Killua had ever seen. Was the silver haired boy even seen as a breathing creature?

Watching at the same time as supressing his reactions, Killua did not have a good view of all that Rian was doing – but he could feel it. The long razorblade was slowly being scrapped along the bottom of his foot, the first few layers of skin being taken off with slow precision. Killua was being skinned alive! A normal reaction would have been to immediately panic, but as Killua's normal reaction was different to most things instead of an instant build-up of panic his thoughts remained calm; shock was there but he remained calm. Not even his breathing changed. It was something Killua had no experience with, never had the Zoldycks thought to prepare one of their own for the eventuality. Modern torture did not including skinning people alive – it was an old technique that had not been used in hundreds, if not thousands, of years.

As all this went through the young boy's mind there was also a note of respect. Raised in a torturer's environment Killua had been raised to appreciate the fine art, even if he grudgingly admitted it. For someone, whom Killua assumed was raised in a "typical" environment, to strike upon this was… creative.

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Absorbed so deeply into his thoughts Killua had neglected to notice the progress Rian had made; the sole of his foot was completely scrapped away and replaced with a coating of ruby blood. Rian smiled as the blood was forced down by gravity. It would become increasingly trickier the less skin and more blood there was; Rian didn't want to leave even the smallest piece on Killua. The boy would be painted red in his own blood and courtesy of his own body… Rian's tongue snaked out again to wet his lips as a strong mental image of the finished product came to mind. He had to dislodge the image or be forced to take a break. The free moving brunette walked around the corner of the table to gain a better view of Killua's foot as it would be difficult to skin the toes but Rian would do it, no matter how long it would take him.

Leaning closer, Rian set the thin blade against the side of Killua's foot and began to cut it away, pulling at the skin occasionally to see if he could peel it off; like you would a scab or dry skin. Of course what Rian had not thought of was how was he going to skin Killua's back? The boy was strapped down and paralyzed but what would happen come the time to flip him over? The question, as well as finding the solution, was important enough to pull Rian away. The whole of Killua's left foot was now skinned, making the limb appear as though it was wearing a red sock that dripped onto the metallic surface below. Cupping his right cheek in thought Rian pondered that there had to be a solution to this. Allowing his dark eyes to roam over the hospital-level sterile room they stopped once they landed on the iron rings on the far wall. Those could work…

With a happy spring in his step Rian made his way to the extra storage room and returned seconds later carrying a pair of iron shackles attached by a long chain. If he hung Killua up _now_ there would be no need to do so _later_, allowing Rian to work uninterrupted. Oh that made the man smile!

Not a movement was wasted as Rian unbuckled Killua, carried him over to the wall with the rings, and hung him there. The shackles were a little loose around the wrist, meant to hold someone closer to Rian's size, but were still capable of restraining the ex-assassin's movements.

"Maybe I should give you another dose…" Killua's chin was held between the thumb and index finger of Rian's left hand. It forced the silver haired boy to look in to the brunette's eyes, revealing the dead look in the former and the unhidden glee of the latter. "… but you won't give me any trouble now will you? That's a good boy." With a couple of pats to Killua's cheek Rian moved away to reclaim the razorblade.

For the next few hours Rian had utter focus on the process of skinning Killua, peeling the thin layers of skin to reveal the pinkish flesh beneath. It wasn't deep enough to damage muscles, if nothing else it could be described as when you scrape a knee or an elbow – a few layers of skin gone and a scab would form overnight…

Laughter rocked Rian's shoulders at the thought. His hand shook with glee and he was forced to stop, lest he screw up. What a wonderful thought! Skin the boy, let it repair itself and come the 'morrow peal it away again! Rian could spend endless days like that – keeping Killua alive, letting the boy witness the torture of Rian's other guests, and still keeping him in pain! Yes, yes! Wonderful, wonderful! The plan was so gratifying that Rian lost all interest in skinning Killua any more at the moment, he had reached mid-thigh on both legs so it was perfectly fine to stop. Killua had made no resistance, though the puddle of the blood beneath his dangling feet may have helped to keep the protests and struggles to a minimum. Blood loss was really quite handy when torturing someone, unless they lost too much and ended up dying prematurely – that always put a damper on Rian's mood.

"But you won't die of blood loss on me. You're a fine guest. A strong guest. A _long lasting_ guest, isn't that right?" Peering into Killua's cold blue eyes Rian swiped the bloodied razor across his jeans to clean it, leaving two bloodied streaks behind, and returned to the L-shaped table of tools. With such a brilliant idea, and the stimulation of just _thinking_ of the pleasure an audience could bring to him, Rian felt little need to continue physically abusing the boy. He was free to return to doing so at any time, so why rush?

However, there _was_ one thing Rian would do before he escorted his next guest out…

Picking up another thin blade, this one resembling a hilt-less stiletto dagger, Rian returned to Killua and carved his signature in the boy's inner right wrist. It was just a small capital cursive _R_ without the straight line… some might even confuse it with a capital cursive _Q_. Puncturing the vein one or twice provided quite a bit of blood to trail down Killua's arm, pooling in his elbow before trickling lower. Now that was a temptation Rian would never resist. He licked at Killua's inner elbow, lapping up the blood as though it was the nectar of the Gods.

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Killua flinched at the feeling of warm, wet breath against his skin. It was disgusting to him, that someone would want to taste blood. The boy was familiar with the metallic, pungent taste but he had never liked it – had never liked anything to do with the red substance. It was meant to stay _inside_ a person. It was why Killua had been unable to continue in the family business. Having so much blood on his hands sickened the boy to the point he was almost physically ill after every assignment. Feeling the slick liquid and the squishy, malleable flesh between his fingers and scraping it out from beneath his finger nails…

Even those thoughts were turning the young Zoldyck's stomach, and still Rian's tongue licked at his elbow.

A breathy chortle came from Rian's lips as he finally pulled away to look aside at Killua's face. He was sure the features reflected his disgust, the one emotion Killua had never been able to masterfully hide. It was a powerful emotion.

"Come now my young guest, don't you like to taste your own blood? Maybe I should bleed that black haired boy, Gon, and make you drink it!" Rian's hands clapped together as he straightened completely, "Or what if I make a concoction from your brothers' blood? How would it taste if I mix Illumi's and Alluka's blood? Would you enjoy it I wonder?"

"…ick," Killua tried to spit out but his parched throat managed only the last syllable.

"Pardon me? Ick?" Rian's face crumpled in disproval.

"Yu… re… s-sick." The ex-assassin's voice was low and hoarse; a practically inaudible whisper if there was such a thing.

"Now what an ungrateful guest you are. I don't think I want to entertain you anymore," Rian's voice took on the tone like that of a pouting child, "but I _do_ still need you alive for later. Oh well, I'm sure you are comfortable hanging there so I'll leave you be. Maybe my next entertainment should be that boy Gon." An evil smirk blossomed on Rian's face as he saw Killua's head jerk up, venom spewing from those beautiful blue eyes… Rian would have to remember to preserve those later, maybe he would make a collection of eyes since he had so many guests with such beautiful eyes. And those scarlet eyes were supposed to fetch quite a price in the underworld, weren't they?

"Don… t… tou… ch… Gon."

"Hmm I don't think I understood that. But it doesn't matter anyways. You have no say in what I do. No power to protect yourself _or_ your friend, so just hang there like a good wall flower you know you are at parties and leave me to my fun." Rian turned on his heel and strutted to the room holding his other guests. He wasn't really going to get Gon; he wasn't going to end his fun so soon. Nope, Killua would have to wait and wonder when it would finally be Gon's turn.

So… now the question came to who would be next? Rian already had an idea in mind and all it took was thirteen steps in to reach the cell where the women were kept. There weren't very many were there? He would have to try and space them out if Rian was to enjoy torturing their bodies.

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**Took longer than I though to write and not as long as I wanted, but it does the job of linking chapters together so I ain't complaining (much). **


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